One of those…
I’m having one of ‘those’ days. Nothing specific and, honestly, it is probably self-imposed. I haven’t eaten anything since around 10:30 this morning except a handful of pretzels. A single Pepsi in the same timeframe isn’t helping either. The joys of caffeine addiction.
Work was work. More coding on a multiphase Web site rebuild. Nothing too serious, just debugging code I wrote yesterday and playing with layout issues. That’s what I do some days: write code, play with pixels, push electrons, ponder the nature of digital cognition or something like.
I always have something playing when I work: mp3s, an NPR stream, or a DVD. Today, I watched Hitch and The Longest Yard ala NetFlix, followed by Bullet in a Bible. All of which insights various forms of frustration. Primarily, I am frustrated with the climatic conditions. It is cold and crappy outside: mostly cloudy, 35° NE 11 mph wind and a wind chill of 27°. Cold. Crappy.
I am craving the feeling of a Thursday ride up to Mt Adams in June, encased in my Vansons, tunes humming in my ears, gently gliding through the corners, high above the Klickitat River. I know the road well enough to realize the risk presented by the blind corners, steep drop-offs and wildlife. The next trek will require some off-bike exploring. I know I ride past a very deep canyon, but the road is not close enough to really see anything, only the hint of basalt cliffs and several miles of decent. I have written about that ride before, but there is something about those curves. I have to go back… I long to return to flavors, textures, emotions, and visions I had not so long ago… not so long ago…
I know we can’t go back, but does that mean we can’t go forward into a new reality?
I miss time spent on my machines. My YZF has sat for too long. I need to think about dropping fuel stabilizer into both bikes. I think Laura will have to drain all of the fuel from her Honda. I fired it up once in the last 4 or 5 months, since it arrived so many miles ago.
It has been a wonderful journey, riding with my friends. Tony is fast, but doesn’t enjoy 400 mile days too much. His Z isn’t comfortable enough for long distances. (Or is he just a whimp?) We have done a few 250 mile days, but that’s about the logistical limit for an out-and-back day. Riding with Laura is something totally different. She is such a free spirit, going where ever the whim takes her, hence the KLR which she mounts with confidence and willful intent. She disregards situations that would stop me cold. Of course, the result is more than a few misadventures. “Can you say Kaneetah?” LOL The funny part is that so-called misadventures always turn into a new adventure. “So, what’s the problem?” I just shrug. “There isn’t a problem, only a new opportunity.” I am very lucky in that regard. I have friends who are not afraid of kicking my ass, while helping me to grow into some one better than I was yesterday.
“A toast… To all of my friends. Some of you are near, others far away. I thank you… for sharing your time, thoughts, fuel and food with me. I love you all.”
Alas. Tonight. I sit here, alone, in the solitude of night, contemplating, hungry, cold, wanting, wishing… for something I can’t seem to grasp, for something just beyond the event horizon of my perseptions, something…
I wish.
I wish.
I wish to feel free, to ride under our Sol, to feel the burn of my leathers while I hide behind dual mirrors, to feel that pulse between my thighs as I tip it in again and again and again…
I wish.
I wish.
I wish to feel human, to share time with my friends.
I wish.
I wish.
I wish for the time and funds to ride up to Hyder, AK for a few days of nomadic tranquility on the back roads. Time for civilization rejection. Time to recharge before the next evolution begins.
I wish.
I wish.
I wish this winter funk had not started so soon…
<shrug>
I really need to eat.
Today is not the day for implementing such desires, wanton, selfish, and profane. I covet the profane as I quest for the sacred — the sacred beauty of the asphalt ribbon, of battleship-gray Armco barriers, of power-slide exits, of empty mile-long straights, of the echoing burble as rapids flow while I shade-tree nap, of the nasal bite from sea-salt spray, of the golden-blast from sunrise opening my bloodshot-blue eyes, of standing half-naked / half-leathered on a hotel balcony in some, as yet unknown, locale, of being completely exhausted and sated… through and through.
I wish.
I wish.
Tonight is not the time for such fantasies. My machines will slumber this night. I will allow myself to be caged. I need food and maybe a stroll. I need to return to the city, to walk past bright store fronts, to haunt the stacks at Powell’s looking for… something to lessen the pain.
Definitely time to eat…
